The new training regimen starts with five running laps around the Darkwood forest. It’s normal if it’s only in the castle’s courtyard, because while that place is large, it is still no forest on its own. I used to train my stamina around here back before the whole war came crashing, but even I can barely endure two rounds of repetitive running around a forest as large as this.
After the whole ass whooping session with our instructor Brenna Lodbrok earlier, we are ordered to begin training immediately without any rest. For warming up, five laps around the forest for me and Iola, while the warriors, Caelan and Koros, get ten laps, with several iron chains on their body to weight them down. Koros and Caelan are running ahead of us, but close enough not to escape out of our sight. They probably can run faster than this, rather than waiting for me and Iola to catch up with them, but my guess is they are keeping a slower pace to conserve their stamina, after all, their task is twice ours.
I think I’m fine for the time being. Running in a familiar place certainly helps. Iola? Not so much. She has trouble running in a dress for obvious reasons, neither do her boots do a good thing in helping her run. She did a good job running halfway through the forest, but fatigue is showing through the sweats on her face.
It wouldn’t be so bad for Iola if the instructor herself isn’t tailing us behind, keeping vigilant watch of her students. Her presence unintentionally creates a mental weight to slow us down from performing our best. Understandably, considering what she did to us prior to our “training”. Even that motormouth Caelan keeps his mouth shut and runs without saying anything. The atmosphere around us is too heavy, this only means trouble is bound to happen sooner and later.
And it does, starting with Iola’s fall from exhaustion. She trips on her dress and finds her face meeting up with the ground.
“Iola!”
I yell. Koros and Caelan also stop their track when they hear about the commotion behind them, but since I am closest to her, I am the first to approach Iola, intending to help her.
“Stop right there! Continue with your training. Let her stand up by herself.”
Brenna’s words manage to stop Caelan and Koros from approaching, but it’s already too late for me, I extend my hand to help Iola, but she is still too exhausted to get herself up. The trip tears a small part of her dress, nothing too serious, but I still don’t understand why our instructor forces Iola to run in such an unfitting attire.
“Cadet Akuma. Get up, and continue your training.”
“Give her a moment, will you!? Are you expecting her to run like a horse in this kind of dress!?”
I raise my voice, almost to sound like I’m yelling. Truth is I feel like yelling, I have a good reason to yell, but not now, not this moment. I know better than acting headfirst without thinking like the person I used to be before this whole war began.
“That fault was on her part, wearing fancy dresses to do combat training.”
Brenna coldly replies.
“She didn’t know! She was unprepared!”
“So did the Demon Realm, and we all know how that ended, don’t we?”
I feel like my tongue is stuck by something, preventing me from making any rebuttal. Without looking at us, Brenna Lodbrok leers at the forest of Darkwood, at the places that were burnt from an unknown fire, made during the fighting that happened in the siege of Melas. The corpses might be gone, but in some places there’re still several pools of dried blood around. Hidden from sight are also the body parts of those who fell here, which the soldiers didn’t bother to pick up, leaving them behind for whatever beasts living in the forest to consume, assuming the beasts themselves were not among the casualties. This is the first time I arrive in the Darkwood forest after the war, and the fatigue and hatred of my new instructor have blinded me somewhat from this obvious truth.
“Make all the excuses you want, but you can’t change the obvious truth: the Realm failed to defend itself, and many lives…good lives, were paid to undone that mistake.”
Brenna turns her gaze back to us and continues her monologue.
“We are already at war. If you are not mentally prepared for war, then pack up and go home.”
I grind my teeth. In my view, even if she’s right, that is not an excuse for her to torment her students like this. But before I have a chance to retort, the exhausted Iola grabs me by my shirt and gives me a silent headshake. Through a brief glance of her grey eyes, I understand what she’s trying to do: to stop me from needlessly doing something foolish for her sake.
With my helping hands, the young witch stands up and regain her balance. Our brief banter gives her enough time to recover her stamina, though only Iola knows how long that will last.
“I’m sorry, Instructor. It was my fault. I will take any punishment you deem fit.”
Brenna pauses for a moment before she delivers her verdict.
“Just continue with your training. You’re slowing everyone down. And you two maggots, keep running!”
With the input of Brenna, Caelan and Koros resume their run, soon they are followed by me and Iola, both trying to keep up our pace lest our bodies fail us and we have to face Brenna’s wrath again. Iola bids me a silent thank you as we run, but I know this won’t be the end of the trouble with out new instructor.
…
We finish our run and return to the forest’s entrance. I have trouble catching my breath, while Iola is having trouble even with breathing. Caelan and Koros have yet to join us considering their workload, but it doesn’t take too long for them to arrive as well after finishing the ten laps of running. They don’t even have the luxury to take it slow, considering the instructor herself is supervising the two after I and Iola finished our run. The two warriors fall to the ground exhausted, as if they were chased by a terrifying ghost, which isn’t too far away from the truth, metaphorically speaking. And it seems like theirs, and ours, torture has yet to end.
“Get up, that’s only the warm up.”
Says Brenna as she lightly kicks Caelan in the butt. Yet the jolly guy does not have the strength left to comically react to the instructor’s action. He just stands up by instinct without saying anything. The same applies to the Orc Koros. They look more like animated corpses than proud cadets of Melas.
“Since this is only the first day, I’ll make the course easy. Start with two hundred push up, both of you.”
After bestowing a new task to the warriors, the silver-haired instructor turns to me and Iola. Whatever she has to say, it won’t be pleasant for the two of us.
“And you two, a hundred.”
Like good students, Caelan and Koros obey the instructor’s words to the tee without complaining. They instantly start doing push up, despite still having all of the weights forced upon them from their run earlier. They are doing rather well, their pace is fast, but the amount of sweat coming from their bodies is enough to make a small pond. I wonder why they don’t object to this blatant abuse in the name of education. Is it because of their calling as soldiers, as warriors? Or simply blind obedience born from fear?
Nevertheless, I and Iola find ourselves obeying her very words. Even though the fatigue and exhaustion have yet to left us, we start doing push up on the ground. A hundred push up, doesn’t sound like something too out of hand, it’s normal for people working out back in my world, but they don’t start their beginner work out routine with a hundred push up right off the bat. If I’m still have my strength, maybe I can barely push it to eighty, but after such an intense running, even with the little rest, I doubt I can push through fifty with my current strength. But it isn’t myself that I fear for, I fear Iola may not make it, and who knows what sort cruel punishment Brenna has in hand if she does fail herself.
“Push more strength to your hands!”
Brenna yells at Caelan as she puts her right leg onto his back. The combined weight prevents the young man to continue his push up, but he’s certainly trying to avert that. The more Brenna forces her weight onto him, the stronger Caelan tries to maintain his pace, but even he has limits. Thankfully, before Caelan reaches his breaking point, Brenna spares him and pushes her leg away from him only to repeat the same process with Koros.
To think our instructor would be a hellish person like this. At first, I was thinking “Is she really Bjarni’s daughter?”, soon that thought quickly changes to “Is she really Bjarni’s daughter?”. Brenna puts her father - Bjarni “Hit your students’ heads with bricks” Lodbrok - to shame. From what I could tell in our brief encounter in their training, I could see his students enjoyed the physical abuse Bjarni. Of course, a few running laps around the forest pales in comparison with running half naked under the cold weather, but I felt a presence of love, enough to make those students ignore the odds and continued their training. I can’t sense such a feeling under Brenna’s guidance. Everything she did look like physical abuse to me.
And what I fear soon becomes reality as Brenna starts approaching Iola, who’s barely manage to do several push up on her own, but the moment Brenna shows up, Iola’s body freezes and stops her training.
“What’s the matter? Cadet Moreau?”
Says Brenna, completely oblivious of Iola’s fear of her. Iola tries to continue her training, but exhaustion combined with fear prevent her from using her girly strength. At that moment, Brenna puts her iron boot onto her back, making some weight just like what she did earlier to the warriors.
“Seems like a cup of tea may motivate you to do better, shall I also bake some cookies to boot?”
Iola tries pushing herself up, but Brenna’s weight through her boot always keep her down.
“Come on! A lady of the Demon Realm is stronger than this. What were you doing all those time in Melas if you can’t do a hundred push up in a breeze?”
At that point, I break.
“Enough is enough!”
I yell in anger as I stand up from the ground and approach her. Instructor or not, Bjarni’s daughter or not, I won’t let her do as she pleases to us even if she has the right to.
“She’s a witch, not a warrior! She casts spells, not stab people with pointy weapons! Stop making standards on areas she’s not strong at!”
Thanks to my input, Brenna spares her torment off Iola, but her attention starts to divert to me instead. Our gazes meet as she stands in front of me, preparing her rebuttal.
“And will you make that excuse on the battlefield, when she is approached by enemies faster than she can cast spells?”
“No! Because that’s why we are here, to train together, to fight together as a squad, who will have each other’s back protected by squadmates we can trust!”
I yell loud enough to make Koros and Caelan stop their mindless push up and gaze at our conversation. They may be reserved because of obedience born from their prior trainings, but I wasn’t trained as a warrior, hell, I can say I wasn’t properly trained enough to be anything, but I guess thanks to that, I can have the strength to tell something obvious people ignore through sheer ignorance. They may be able to endure her abuse, but I won’t let her do what she pleases on my friend Iola without a fight.
And a fight is what I get, as Brenna suddenly punches me by the face, sending me flying for a meter away from her.
“You naïve idiot!”
I fall to the ground with a bloodied mouth. I think I lost a teeth or two, but the pain from being punched by someone wearing an iron gauntlet is too much for me to care enough about losing teeth. Despite the pain, I find myself able to quickly stand up thanks to sheer anger.
“Do you expect there are people who will always protect you on the chaotic battlefield!? How entitled you must be if you take being saved by others in dire needs for granted!?”
Propelled by rage, I rush at the instructor as she approaches closer to me. Pain and hatred replace my reason as I find myself throwing a punch toward her face, but what is a rage-filled punch to a seasoned soldier? The one-eyed woman swiftly dodges sideway, but not without mixing in a counter move by kicking my feet to throw me off balance. As I once again fall down to the earthly ground, Brenna adds in another move by the form of an elbow strike right in my back. Thanks to the lack of protection of my common black cloak, since Kardia’s cloak was torn apart in the war, I can feel the pain inflicted on me to the bone.
“Arghh!”
I groan. I think I have a broken bone in my back, thankfully it’s not my spine, but that will take a long time to heal if I can manage to survive through today. I can see Caelan, Koros and Iola rushing to my aid, but a loud yelling from Brenna stops them from moving further.
“STAND BACK! ALL OF YOU!”
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Brenna then puts her feet on my back, preventing me from getting up, if I still have the strength to do so.
“Tell me: Have you ever been in a bind, facing enemies you cannot hope to defeat, with no allies by your side who either fled or lay dead on the ground, with no chance to come out alive unless a miracle happens? When I did, it cost me an eye and a hole in my stomach. But why…when you did it, the only thing you sacrificed is my father!?”
Brenna pulls her feet away and kicks me in the stomach afterward. I groan from the pain, but soon I don’t even have that chance anymore since she repeatedly kicks me nonstop.
“Out of all the people he could save, why did he pick an insolence maggot like you! Why did you come out unscathed when others couldn’t!? Why did the person who had to die to save you must be my father!? For all your talk about working as a squad, you can’t even save yourself without relying on the strength of others! You’re a creep, a parasite who can only survive by leeching on people’s good will! If only you died…and stayed dead, then maybe…my father will…”
My body is in pain, but her words hurt me even more than every kicks she made. I find myself stop groaning despite the pain. I lose the interest to even defend myself, and just let Brenna do what she want. My body is tattered, but I would like to think for every piece of broken bone inside my body is a coin used to repay the debt I own the deceased Bjarni. If beating me to a pulp may satisfy the daughter he left behind, then so be it.
“That…still doesn’t give you…a reason…to abuse my friends!”
With what’s left of my strength, I hold Brenna’s leg with my arms, preventing her from further making a mess out of my body. A frown appears on the one-eyed demon’s face. She is certainly displeased. My pitiful strength can only hold her leg for a second before she slips away and kicks me in the face.
At this point, even the obedient little soldiers can’t stand and continue watching.
“You’re going overboard, Instructor! Stop this, please!”
Koros rushes at Brenna and locks her right arm, but Brenna pays no heed to his words and throws him away with a martial technique. When Caelan tries to do the same, she quickly knocks him out by a quick punch at his stomach. But for all of their futile attempt, they buy enough time for Iola to act…by using herself as a shield to block the path between Brenna and my tattered self.
“Move, cadet Moreau.”
“No! I won’t let you harm him anymore!”
Brenna stands there looking stunned. I don’t know what is going in her head, but Iola’s fragile body and words alone don’t have the power to stop her, something else did. Is it because of the combined efforts from two people who haven’t fought side by side together once like Koros and Caelan? Is it because someone who is too weak to do anything is throwing their everything to protect another? Or is it because they are proving the value of my words, where squadmates have each other’s back? Nevertheless, all of those are not enough, as Brenna approaches Iola anyway with her arm raised, preparing to punch Iola away with no mercy.
At only during that moment does a miracle decide to show itself.
“Stop.”
Out of nowhere, a soldier with a skull-shaped helmet appears, with his bandaged right arm he puts a hold to Brenna’s arm before she can strike the witch girl. Brenna looks genuinely surprised, her sole remain eye opens wide from the sudden appearance of the last person I expect to show up.
“Lapidoth…Don’t stop me, I’m educating him.”
“If it’s truly for educational purpose, then I say you haven’t hit him hard enough. But it’s not as simple as that, isn’t it?”
Brenna’s body shakes as she bits her lip in a sudden burst of silent anger.
“What do you know about it…!?”
Suddenly, the bandages covering Brenna’s right eye redden as blood flows out of them, wetting the white cloth covering where her right eye should be. Brenna drops on her knees afterward, almost falling to the ground if not for Lapidoth keeping a firm hold of her arm. There’s also blood flowing out beneath her iron armor, wetting her stomach in red. Brenna doesn’t say anything, but it is obvious the opened wounds are hindering her attempt to make communication, maybe.
“Class dismissed for today. You three go treat his wound, I’ll take care of your instructor.”
With just that, the eventful day ends as Koros, Iola and Caelan listen to Lapidoth’s words and take me back to the castle to treat my wounds, while the man himself disappears along with our “instructor”.
-----------
Inside Melas castle lies a keep filled with empty rooms. Normally, this place is used as guest rooms in case there are a large amount of guests coming for visit, but at this time, with a war on their doorstep, the only guests Melas has are soldiers of the Demon Realm, making it an army barrack in all but name. Even then, the soldiers allowed to stay in the keep are the most exceptional ones, who proved their worth before or during the war, those who don’t have those merits have to make camps outside of the keep and combat the cold of winter’s night on their own.
Lapidoth waltzes in the keep, despite not personally residing in this place. He has a wooden bowl of hot water on his left arm and a basket of medicines, bandages and towels on the other. Lapidoth approaches a room on the third floor and without knocking, the guy opens the door with his leg to walk inside.
The first thing that hits his eyes is the sight of Brenna punching the stone walls with her right arm to no avail. It’s unclear whether the stone walls of Melas are simply too tough, or Brenna’s iron gaunlets are too well made, but nonetheless, without neither of them breaking, Brenna continues to vent her anger on the gray walls surrounding her room.
“Stop punching, you’ll hurt the wall’s feeling.”
Says Lapidoth as he closes the wooden door and fully enters the room.
“Then who cares about my feelings!?”
Brenna yells. Her bandages still remain dirtied with blood, and all the movement and yelling certainly doesn’t help to stop blood from flowing out of her wounds.
“I could care more if you stop throwing tantrum like a brat.”
Brenna begrudgingly sighs as she gives up harming the walls and sits on her bed while Lapidoth prepares his medical tools.
“Whose bright idea was it to make me an instructor? Me? Teaching brats how to fight? All I want…is just to lead my men to kill the bastards who destroyed my squad…and the high command can’t even grant it the right way without screwing me over!”
Brenna yells as she throws her pillow at the wall like an angry schoolgirl, unfitting her appearance as a veteran soldier.
“Those were Solis’s 「Yellow Knights」 we’re talking about. It was a miracle you made it back alive when they found you lost on the way back to Melas. Losing your eye or not, half of your squad wouldn’t be alive if you didn’t stay to hold the enemy back.”
Yellow Knights, the most elite knight order of the Kingdom of Solis. Famed for their unmatched strength, unrivaled chivalry and undisputed discipline. A group of five hundred is comparable to a standard human army. They are feared and respected as an enemy of the Demon Realm, with most encounters ended in the total destruction of the demon soldiers in question. Fleeing a fight from them alive can be called an achievement on its own.
“Those were still my men! If I don’t do something about those bastards, they would die unavenged! There’s no way I’ll allow them to roam through our lands unchecked! Not after what they did to us!”
Brenna yells out loud in a fit of anger. On the contrary, Lapidoth remains calm and replies Brenna without raising his voice.
“So the first thing you did after having your wounds patched up was to lead your remaining men on a suicidal charge to find an enemy whose whereabouts you yourself don’t know about? Your destructive tendency will kill those you saved for the sake of your selfish vengeance. It’s a miracle they made you an instructor instead of kicking you straight out of the army.”
After saying his words, Lapidoth takes the wooden bowl of hot water to Brenna’s side, along with a clean towel on his shoulder.
“…You were right…You always were…”
Brenna calms down and silently awaits Lapidoth’s treatment on her bed. The soldier puts the hot water bowl to the stone ground and dip the clean tower inside before twisting the water out.
“You lost half your squad to the Yellow Knights, the other half to the chain of commanding. Your father died along with his killer. Those kids are the only things you have left now. Don’t try to drive them off just because you hate being an instructor.”
Brenna takes off the bandages covering her right eye, revealing an empty eye socket filled with fresh blood. The wounds had already been taken care off, but the intense physical and emotional trauma made her blood flows out once again. Brenna just sits there, waiting patiently for her former senior comrade’s medical care until she herself asks him a question.
“Why did you come? For him?”
Lapidoth remains silent as he wipes the blood off the area around Brenna’s eye socket. He tries his best to be careful, but even without his iron gauntlets, Lapidoth’s hands still touch a bit of the flesh by her eye socket, which causes some pain to the young woman. Nevertheless, Lapidoth not even once asks about her welfare, for it is better the faster he wipes off the blood without interruption.
“Do you blame him? Or do you blame yourself?”
Asks Lapidoth as he applies the disinfectant over Brenna’s eye socket. Brenna fails to make any answer to Lapidoth’s question. The girl keeps her silence as Lapidoth wraps her right eye with a fresh and clean batch of bandages.
“If you were here the day Origen’s forces attacked, maybe you could have save him, he would be alive after the siege is over. But then, who would lead your squad to live through the assault of the Yellow Knights? Without your presence, all of them would be eliminated. If given a choice, who would you choose?”
Brenna bites her lips, unable to make a proper answer with conflicting herself.
“You’re cruel…You know I can’t choose.”
“And I’m glad you didn’t have to. Whoever you picked, you’ll feel the same regret regardless. You may keep convince yourself there’s a way for everybody to live…but nobody can change the past. You can only live with the consequences, along with its pain and sorrow.”
Says Lapidoth as he washes the bloodied towel in hot water after finishing wrapping the bandages.
“…Why did you have to go and die?…Stupid father…”
Brenna silently mutters, but that doesn’t escape the ears behind Lapidoth’s helmet.
“I was also saved by him back during the siege. I own him my life. Without Bjarni holding back Origen, I would have died along with that brat. If you want someone to blame, then blame me as well. But although you have every right to blame, I don’t think your father would want you to dwell so much over the dead.”
After finishing the preparation of the towel, Lapidoth kneels in front of Brenna, waiting for her to say something.
“What do you mean?”
“It means our job is not over. The war has yet to over. Letting hatred and sorrow drown you will do no good. You are an instructor now, just like your father before you. His students are now in your care, they are his living legacy, it’s up to you now to do what you want with it.”
Suddenly, a faint smile appears on Brenna’s lips.
“You haven’t change a bit. Always speak to people the things they want to hear in the way they hate the most. Though I never hate that part of you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Lapidoth replies. Brenna notices his gaze at her torso, still fully in armor despite the blood dripping through the wound in her stomach. Only at this point does she understand why he wants to treat her wounds in her own room, since there won’t be any place private enough in the makeshift hospital located at the castle storage.
“I guess…it can’t be helped.”
Brenna reluctantly takes off her armor in silent. Her armor is conveniently designed so that she could take it off by her own, as well as easier to maintain on long days away from the base. When she is down to her inner clothing, Brenna still takes her brown shirt off her upper half just so Lapidoth can have an easier time treating her wound, and feasting his eyes on a woman’s naked upper half body as a bonus.
But Brenna knows there’s no chance he would find her body attractive. Aside from her bosom covered by a cloth, not for medical purpose, but rather to make it easier for her to move in armor, the rest of her well-toned muscular torso is covered with battle scars, both old and new. Brenna’s face reddens, not because there’s a man staring at her naked upper half, but because there isn’t anything even noteworthy to show him.
“There seem to be more than the last time I saw them. Badges of pride, as you once called.”
“They don’t help much in attracting the attention of men though, and losing an eye certainly ended any hope of marriage to me.”
Jokingly says Brenna as the man in armor takes off the bandages covering the wound on her stomach. The size suggests she was pierced by a spear, deep enough to cause some serious damage, but thankfully shallow enough to let her keep her life afterward. The hole in her armor has been fixed by the castle blacksmiths, but the wound is still there and has yet to heal.
“Any man who doesn’t want you is an idiot.”
Lapidoth replies. Using the towel, he cleans the blood off the wound on Brenna’s stomach, all while the girl in question keeps watching him treating her like a spoiled princess.
“My mom once said All men are idiots. I used to think she only meant my father, but…”
“She wasn’t wrong.”
Lapidoth bluntly replies, although Brenna can hear a silent chuckle. After rinsing around the wound, the man in armor starts applying disinfectant on it before warping it with bandages. When there’s nothing left to be done, Brenna wears back her shirt, but since Lapidoth tells her to rest lest her wounds open again, the girl forgoes her armor and just let it sit by her bed. Before Lapidoth has a chance to stand up, Brenna suddenly leans forward and holds his shoulder with her hand.
“Is there really…no chance…between the two of us?”
Lapidoth pauses a moment before calmly takes Brenna’s hand off his shoulder, but without letting it go. Their hands touch, but his grip doesn’t have the strength of a man who doesn’t want to part with the love of his life. That is enough for Brenna to know his answer.
“I have known you for three years, Brenna. I want you to be happy, but I’m afraid…I’m not the one who could bring it to you. The only things that await me on my path…are pain and sorrow.”
Despite having her hand held, Brenna is the first one to part her hand away from Lapidoth’s. The young woman remains silent. She wants to say something, she wants to say her life has been filled with pain and sorrow as well, she wants to say such a future doesn’t scare her. But Brenna understand that’s precisely the reason Lapidoth doesn’t want her to walk together with him on his road. He wants her to be happy because of her own pain and sorrow, not to share a miserable future together with him. She already understood since the first rejection, the second attempt was made only because of a blind and faint hope.
“Somehow it hurts less in the second time.”
Brenna smiles, trying not to shed a tear. It is unknown whether he’s trying to console her or to make the mood less awkward, but Lapidoth still takes out a letter he hid inside his armor and puts it into Brenna’s hand. Certainly not a love letter, not after that second rejection.
“What is…this letter?”
“A letter for you, from Bjarni.”
Brenna doesn’t even bother to hide the surprise on her face as she has what could be counted as a memento from her deceased father on her hand.
“He actually wrote a letter? He never once wrote a letter before, not even during the campaigns on the humans’ lands. I once doubted he even knew what letters are, let alone write one.”
“An input from a stupid student of his, he said. Which one, well…who knows? Anyway, It’s time for me to leave. That letter is for you and you only, no need for me to hear what he got to say. Either way, remember to rest up and don’t try to make any heavy move.”
Without any further saying, Lapidoth packs up and leave the room as Brenna stays behind with Bjarni’s letter in her hand. Lapidoth gets out with his stuff and closes the door, but he has yet to leave. He is waiting for something as he silently stands in front of Brenna’s room.
Eventually, a sound comes from inside of the room. A sobbing of a crying girl. A lament of a fatherless daughter.
Only then does Lapidoth deem his presence unnecessary and quietly walks away.